by Cara Bristol
“No, of course you didn’t. To answer your question, I decided to treat myself to some easy cash on my sixteenth birthday. Only I mugged the wrong victim.” Sonny had always been big, even as an adolescent, and the urbane, well-dressed man exiting the expensive Personal Vehicle had shouted wealth. An easy mark.
A major miscalculation. The expensive suit had concealed the body of a fighter. Sonny’s bad choice ended up being the best thing that ever happened to him. “He kicked my ass and wiped up the street with it.” He laughed. “Instead of having me arrested, he petitioned the authorities and became my guardian.”
Amanda’s eyes widened. “Why would he do that after you attempted to rob him?”
“He’d grown up on the streets himself. I wasn’t the first juvenile delinquent he’d helped.” But the only one he had assumed guardianship for. “He said I reminded him of himself.” He shrugged. His benefactor had kept him on the straight and narrow by sheer force of will. A stupid punk with a streak of rebellion and guilt longer than a shuttle runway, he hadn’t appreciated the man’s generosity or the friendship offered by his biological son—at the time. But, now? He’d dedicated his life to repaying the debt.
“After I came of age, he nudged me to enlist in the military. Said if I liked to fight, I should do it for the right reasons.”
“So you were in the service.”
“I did a stint.” After four years in the infantry, he’d started to get his shit together when a microexplosive device exploded in his face. Blind. Military career over.
In the hospital, he’d been approached by the director of Cyber Operations and offered an opportunity to regain his sight and begin a new career. He’d been whisked away to the secret Cybermed facility and fitted with cybernetic eyes. Nanocytes bulked him up, increased his stamina, imbued him with greater strength. A microprocessor implanted in the corpus callosum of his brain controlled his eyes and boosted his cognition.
“How about you? You seemed to know what you were doing with the Malodonian.”
“I served as a commander in the Terran Armed Forces.”
Military. As he’d guessed. An officer, no less. No wonder she didn’t put up with any crap. “What are you doing now?”
She hesitated a fraction of a second. “I work for an intergalactic imports company.”
“So your business associate…”
“Works for the same company. We’re going on a…product-buying mission.
“Where?” Cy-Ops missions rarely allowed him to see the best a planet had to offer, but he’d landed on quite a few and had an inkling of what commodities were available.
“That’s the reason for the meeting. But let’s not talk about business.”
“What would you like to talk to about?”
“For starters…your place or mine?”
“Well, I’m in one of the hotel-style rooms.” The least expensive accommodation since Cy-Ops was footing the bill. The organization spared no expense in extractions and rescues but kept a tight grip on the bottom line when it came to layovers. Carter Aymes, the head of Cy-Ops, would pitch a fit and a tent before he’d pay for an ocean bungalow.
“Me, too,” she said. “So let’s go to your room.”
Chapter Two
His room. Easy choice. She could exit when she chose without the complication of having to convince him to leave.
She’d never picked up a stranger before. But this was a pleasure resort for goodness sake! When on Darius 4, do as the Darians… How foolish would she be if she didn’t take advantage of this opportunity? Pleasure bots were renowned throughout the galaxy for their ability to fulfill a woman’s every sexual fantasy. But, despite their five-star rating, they were too perfect. She couldn’t overlook that they were synthetic beings, programmed machines. Besides, they didn’t come cheap, pun intended. Expensing an evening with a pleasure bot would cause her tightwad boss to blow a gasket.
Since this might be her last sexual experience ever, it should occur with someone real. Someone human. Not a bot—but not a Malodonian, either. She stifled a shudder. The only thing worse than doing the nasty with a Malodonian would be having sex with a Lamis-Odg. She shoved the distasteful thought away before it squashed her desire for the Terran.
They didn’t get any more human or real than this guy. It didn’t surprise her one bit the dude had been a thug. She clutched a secret smile. Her father would have given birth to a full-grown Xenian water bovine if she’d brought home a man like him. Not that she would have dared to back then. But, now, knowing how much Daddy would disapprove made Sonny all the more appealing.
Medical technology almost could achieve the miraculous. Sonny must have been sliced up pretty damn good to have been left with such a scar. It cut a stark swath from eye to chin, making him appear menacing—until he smiled. Whoa. Hold onto your skivvies, ladies! That same blemish tugged his lips into a lopsided, damn near-irresistible grin.
Near? She hadn’t been able to resist at all.
And he was tall. She stood six feet herself. A man’s height shouldn’t matter, except it did. Not towering over her date was kind of nice. Not a date, she reminded herself.
He was a hookup. A one-night stand she would never see again.
Hover lights illuminated from above, while the glowing path created the sensation of floating. Everything about Darius 4 seemed surreal. Beneath massive interconnected domes, the formerly barren planet had been terraformed, creating themes to appeal to guests’ sexual fantasies. Hers? Sex with a bad boy. She glanced at her companion. She could picture him as a streetwise punk hyped up on testosterone and his bad-ass rep.
She’d called him a chauvinist, and he’d laughed. Holy mother of all that was, well, holy, his masculine roar had lit up every single one of her erogenous zones. Her libido had shot into hyperdrive, and it was no longer a case of grabbing one last fling just in case she didn’t make it home... She wanted him.
Time for a change of plans. She’d gotten to Darius 4 earlier than expected. After grabbing a quick drink in the bar, she’d intended to connect with Samson, her teammate, but jettisoned the plan after hooking up with Sonny. Why not indulge for once? Live out a secret fantasy? Get her libido in check so she could focus on the job ahead.
A peal of giggles rang out. A woman in a see-through toga chased by a bare-chested android pleasure worker sprinted across the garden. The erection tenting the bot’s wraparound trousers bobbed realistically as he ran. They dove into an open-air gazebo and, moments later, clothing fluttered to the ground. In full view of anyone and everyone, they went at it.
She tore her gaze away from the copulating couple and met Sonny’s amused glance. “What happens on Darius 4, stays on Darius 4,” he said.
“Good policy,” she agreed, relieved. Tonight’s adventure would remain here. Anonymity suited her purpose to a T. She didn’t know his full name, and he didn’t have hers. No ties. No entanglements. Don’t wish for more than you can get, and you don’t get crushed by disappointment.
Hidden fans swished the humidity-controlled air so it breezed over her skin like a caress, but it was the heat emanating from his body that created an indelible impression, his warm scent adding fuel to her smoldering libido. Her stomach fluttered, and her tight nipples ached. Between her legs, moisture pooled.
“My room is in here.” He gestured to a giant glass tree. The hotel.
An ascender rose from the trunk-like lobby to upper hallways branching out over the garden. Green individual room pods dangled from the glass limbs. From the outside, you couldn’t see in. But, from the inside, you had an owl’s eye view of the garden. “We’re staying in the same place,” she murmured.
“Convenient.” He flashed a smile.
Too much so. What would she say if she ran into him in the morning while waiting for the lift? But why worry about that now when they hadn’t done anything yet. What happens on Darius 4, stays on Darius 4. Clever. The resort should use it in their marketing materials.
They entere
d the ascender. Her heart thumped. I’m going to do this! Everything inside her body fluttered or throbbed. He reached to palm the screen to activate the lift then halted. Blue eyes, heated and piercing, fixed on her face. “Perhaps we should get something out of the way.”
“What?” she asked.
“This.” He slid his hand under the weight of her hair to cup her nape. His head came down, and she had to tilt her head back, not a little, but a lot. He slanted his mouth over hers and pulled her against his body. She’d admired his height but hadn’t considered what it would mean to hug a man taller than her. How petite his size would make her feel. How…protected. What kind of bullshit was that? The idea knocked her off-kilter, and she clutched at his shoulders for balance. Firm, thick muscles tempted her fingers to knead.
Her breasts, nipples beaded, pressed against his chest. Warm, masculine scent filled her nostrils. On a moan, she parted her lips.
Raspy stubble grazed her jaw. His breath warmed her already-heated face. His smile was crooked, but there was nothing lopsided in how his mouth moved over hers. He kissed like a man on a mission. Deliberate. Thorough. When he released her, her breath came in little pants. If a single kiss could have that effect… This is crazy. Call it off while you still can.
“Why did you do that?” She resisted the urge to touch her throbbing lips. Boy, that man could kiss. But he hadn’t asked. He’d just done it.
“It’s why we’re here, right?”
He attracted her, but for all the wrong reasons—and all the right ones. For a one-night hookup? He was hard-bodied, grinning perfection. As a long-term lover, he wouldn’t do at all. She assumed control—in her professional and personal life. She didn’t jump to do any man’s bidding—they answered to her. She set the pace and the standard. If they couldn’t accept her terms, well, plenty of others did. Some of them, anyway. The point was, she didn’t get attached. Didn’t build castles in the sky. Didn’t have to worry whether she would measure up. A decorated commander in the Terran Armed Forces, she’d never failed at anything, despite what her father believed. The men she allowed into her life needed to worry if they met her standards.
The man whose kiss packed a punch started the transporter with a swipe across the screen. Registration coded to a guest’s DNA eliminated the need to key in a number. The lift whooshed to the seventh floor, two levels above her room. After exiting, he led the way down one of the long glass branches. From this height, she couldn’t see details on the garden lawn, but body positions revealed couples, threesomes, and foursomes engaged in intercourse. The hotel was positioned at the garden’s edge like an observation deck.
“After you.”
Amanda blinked. He stood in front of his open hotel room, beckoning her to enter. She’d been so focused on the people below, she hadn’t realized they’d arrived at the destination.
Centered in the circular room, a massive cushioned platform covered in some iridescent material sparkled under a spotlight. “Darius 4 favors things that glow,” she commented.
Sonny chuckled. “Yeah, they do. I’m more into simplicity.” He drew a finger along her jawline. “But you look very pretty in the glow.”
A line, of course. Her heart hitched with a longing she thought she’d stamped out. “You don’t need to say that.” She whirled away to pretend an interest in the room, a mirror image of her own right down to the mirror on the ceiling. She gulped. They could star in and watch their own porn show while they fucked.
“Compliments make you uncomfortable.” A statement. Not a question. Could he read her that easily?
“No,” she lied. He didn’t need to flatter her to get her into bed. She was already there. She eyed the humungous glowing round platform. Well, almost there.
Sweet nothings meant exactly that. Nothing.
You can do better. How many times had she heard that phrase? Nothing she had ever done had been good enough to please her father. Graduation with greatest honor? Should have been highest honor. Achieved rank in record time? Could have been a rung or two higher if she’d applied herself. And to prove her mediocrity—she’d “washed out” of the Terran Armed Forces.
Everyone else had called it being wounded in action, almost fatally. They don’t give medals for washing out, Dad. She’d tried and tried to please her father, until she’d had to admit defeat. Seeking his approval was the only thing she’d ever given up on.
“So it won’t bother you at all if I tell you you’re hot?” He called her bluff, stalking toward her with intent, causing her heart to go wild in her chest. “Fucking sexy?”
The intensity of his gaze could almost fool her into believing he meant it. The controlled resort temperature didn’t seem so optimal anymore. Caught between desire and embarrassment, she was burning up. Didn’t mean she couldn’t fake aplomb. With a shake of her head, she flipped her hair. “Doesn’t bother me at all.”
“Liar.”
Did he just call her a liar? She gaped. “You-you—” She sputtered in outrage.
He yanked her against him and mashed his mouth to hers in a fierce, blistering kiss. His erection, as rigid as a titanium rod, throbbed against her abdomen. She’d pretended poise; he, apparently, had faked control.
This man wanted her. His naked, honest need for her burned away her anger at his audacity and ignited a tinder of suppressed longing. Lust exploded, hotter than hot. She grabbed him, raked at his shoulders, lashed at the inside of his mouth. She nipped his lips, biting enough to break the skin. He kissed her back, hard, but without drawing blood. Clothing tore. Hers or his, she’d didn’t care.
Bare male chest, rough with hair, scraped against her nipples drawn so tight they hurt. Large male hands squeezed her ass.
Her head fell back as he latched onto her neck. His scruffy chin rasped. Her pussy contracted hungrily, her clit pulsing. Burning, throbbing, yearning overpowered regret and reason. “I-I’m on uh birth control,” she gasped before rationality evaporated for good. Besides switching off ovulation, her system would isolate and eliminate any sexually transmitted contagions she encountered. “I’m clean.”
“Me, too. On both counts.” He took her mouth again.
An intricate design swirled around his upper right arm. Something worth examining—later. She dug her fingers into his biceps. She was toned; he was amazing. Ripped beyond belief. Shoulders broader than broad, a chest like steel dusted with wiry hair that rasped oh so good when she rubbed against it.
She grabbed his shaft, and his cock leapt in her palm as she stroked from the smooth, fluid-slick crown to the base nested in springy curls.
Sonny kneaded her breasts, pinching the tips into achier points. He released one to snake a hand between her legs. “You’re so wet,” he growled. His gravelly voice and the finger he plunged into her caused another surge of moisture to spill out. With his thumb, he circled her clit.
“I can’t wait. Next time will be slower, I promise,” he said.
“Next time?” she gasped, but he’d already lifted her and pressed her against the wall and thrust into her. Wet and needy as she was, the initial painful stretch still came as a shock. She tensed.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Fuck, I’m not.” She thumped his ass with her heels. “Don’t stop now.”
He groaned as he slid all the way in. Filled her in a way more than physical, in a way she couldn’t afford. She only had tonight. There was no tomorrow to borrow. He paused, his cock pulsing, steamy breath heating her neck. “Okay?”
Don’t stop! She craved the pounding of his body inside hers. Needed it hard and fast, otherwise she might stop to question what she was doing and why. She pummeled his ass with her heels. “More.”
He snorted. “You got the impression you’re riding a horse or something?” But he began to move. Powerful thrusts signed with a swivel that caught her clit in the right way to drive her insane. The man could fuck.
With each shove, she slid against the smooth curved, glass wall. Dimly, she wondered if she
would leave sweaty ass prints, wondered if the window was still opaque if a person pressed against it. Were people on the ground watching the show playing seven floors up? Who the hell cared? What happened on Darius 4…
Tension surged into the red zone. Nerves fired. Muscles contracted. Close. So close. “Don’t stop.” She clutched at his shoulders.
“Couldn’t if I wanted to.” His face tightened with a fierce grimace.
She was being fucked by a stranger who looked like an assassin. Maybe performing for an audience of hundreds. A farewell performance. Control snapped. She exploded in orgasm, riding waves of rippling pleasure. Her pussy contracted around his thick, pistoning cock. He bellowed, and moments later streams of cum hit the neck of her womb, touching off a second orgasm.
She clung to him, her body wracked by ecstasy. As the intensity of the bliss faded away, he continued to hold her, to thrust in a slow slide as if savoring the aftermath. His cock was still inside her, and her pussy seemed equally reluctant to release him. The post-coital glow seemed more intimate than the fucking somehow. More dangerous.
No entanglements. No disappointments. She wiggled to signal he should release her.
“In a minute,” he said.
She patted his shoulders. Deep red crescents dented his skin where she’d dug into him with her fingernails. His back bore an angry gash. She’d raked him without awareness of having done so. She didn’t scratch and claw. What had gotten into her? “Sorry about that.”
“About what?”
She rubbed the marks she’d left. “I, um, scratched you.” Gouged him.
“It’ll heal. Don’t worry about it.” He shrugged, and his cock slipped out of her.
He still had her trapped between him and the wall. Perspiration coated their bodies. She was stuck to him. “You can put me down now,” she said.
“Okay.” With an arm across her back and his large hand gripping her ass cheek, he carried her to the bed, sank onto it, and pulled her into the crook of his body. Hairy male limbs wound around her legs. Oh, great. A cuddler. Why did men never do what you needed them to? The ones you wished would hold you, fell asleep. The quick fucks you needed to escape from turned into octopuses.
